Another grainy low rent message from the undisputed voice of his generation, last of the great cryers in the wilderness, now exiled in a cave somewhere in the teeming souks of the south. This new message to the faithful tackles the topics a supine brit-pack prefers not to face: Geoffrey Archer, Accountancy, being busted on the tube, Bovicide, Financial Advisors, Alcohol and the New Economic Policy. Not to forget Alcohol, Laudanum and a paean to Andre Breton. With his guitar, a small band and some sound effects, Bing proves again that sybarites can still find the time to be bitter and twisted, as well as snacking on lotuses. My Coup D’etat. A dilly. Fans of Bing will be happy.